


We Belong To The Light

by lenaxhc



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baker Harry, Bartender Louis Tomlinson, Blow Jobs, Childhood Friends, Drama Teacher Louis Tomlinson, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gay Bar, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned OT5 (One Direction), Original Character(s), Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut, Top Harry Styles, Top Louis Tomlinson, scared to fall in love, they kind of share that really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenaxhc/pseuds/lenaxhc
Summary: "It's always been that way," Louis continues, voice trembling slightly. "As if handling both is just too overwhelming. I can either focus on my responsibilities – a job or an education, normal things like that – or give into my emotions. I don't get it, how other people do it, make it look so simple." He's quiet for a second, thinking. "It's ridiculous, right? Hell, I'm almost 30, Harry! I shouldn't be so scared to feel things."  Harry shakes his head softly, voice kind as he speaks. "I don't think there's an age limit on being scared, Lou."After a tragic loss in his family, Louis Tomlinson finds himself running away from everything he's ever known (terrible habit of his, apparently). He stops answering calls, quits his job as a drama teacher and completely indulges himself in London's bustling nightlife.The story begins almost two years later, when Louis wants to fix his relationship with his younger sister Evelyn. He ends up finding way more than he ever could have hoped for in a familiar fishing town and a handful of people.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	We Belong To The Light

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been wanting to write fanfictions for years but never did since I'm incredibly perfectionistic. No idea how it finally happened, but I'm so proud of my first fic on here! I didn't want to use any real family members for this considering what all of them have been through in real life. I do use Johannah and Anne's first names though, hope that doesn't confuse anyone.
> 
> I'm not from the UK nor am I a native speaker, so ignore any silly mistakes. :)  
> I hope you like it!
> 
> Title from _We Belong_ , originally sung by Pat Benatar, but I personally prefer Brianna Hildebrand's version for the TV Show _Trinkets_. Check it out [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3LUICdnYl0A&app=desktop). 
> 
> _We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder  
>  We belong the sound of the words we've both fallen under  
> Whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better  
> We belong, we belong, we belong together_
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://louisisloved.tumblr.com/)!

**Robin Hood's Bay, Yorkshire**

Louis Tomlinson is sitting in front of the ocean with his eyes closed. He's alone, cold and incredibly anxious. He tries to focus on his surroundings, the soft crashing of waves, the wind tugging at his fringe, seagulls flying over his head, squawking loudly. It still won't slow his racing mind or the heavy thudding of his heart. It's Monday, just a few days into the new year. The beach is empty and quiet, apart from the occasional person walking their dog. A stark contrast with how he remembers it all those years ago. The last time he had been here, he was still a teenager. It was before things had changed for good, back when his father would still look at him.

His family had spent many weekends at the North-Yorkshire coast, mostly because it was the only getaway closest to an actual vacation his parents could afford. He had always loved it, though.

At first it was just him and his parents. He remembers the red bucket hat and jelly sandals his mother had him wear as a toddler. Remembers how his father would play with him in the sand for hours on end, building sand castles and looking for fossils on the rockier parts of the beach. Then Evie came and Louis quickly realised he had found himself a new best friend. He would help her look for seashells, her little hand in his and a bucket for her favourite ones in his other. In return, she helped him convince their mother to buy them ice cream. Jay would listen to them fondly, sunglasses in her hair and a soft smile on her face. They almost always succeeded. Once Annie was born – and old enough to follow her older siblings around like a tiny shadow, they would make up the silliest stories about the little fisherman's town with its charming houses and swirling little streets. _All the people we see are just visitors,_ Evelyn had always told them solemnly, _just like us. But late at night when the world is asleep, the elves come back._ Louis had loved her imagination and played along with it effortlessly, much to his younger sister's delight. He couldn't blame her either. Late in the afternoon when the sun hit the town just right, it truly looked fairy-like. He understands why she would want to come back here, of all places.

Louis smiles at the memories and unconsciously strokes the tattoo on his wrist. _A J E_ , Annabel, Johannah, Evelyn. The black letters right next to his vein look stark against his white skin, he could use some sun. He looks around, trying to figure out how long he's been sitting there. The sky looks dark, like it might start raining any minute. His tummy is grumbling despite his nerves.

He had arrived at Whitby station early in the morning, where a ten-minute bus ride had brought him to the familiarly steep streets of Robin Hood's Bay. He had walked straight to the sea, a little shake in his step as he descended the stairs leading to the beach. The memories had hit him like a punch to the gut, making him want to turn around and make a run for it. He didn't and he still hasn't.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, checking the time – almost 1 PM – then checks his messages for the address Isla had sent him a few days ago – as if he hasn't memorised it by now. "Right", he mutters to himself. He gets up and attempts to get the sand off his black joggers – stupid idea, next time he'll have to bring a blanket to sit on. That is, if Evelyn doesn't close the door in his face, or worse: kill him – and picks up his bag.

How silly of him, to think he would ever be ready to do this.

The address leads him to a narrow townhouse in a small side street only 10 minutes away from the beach. It is perched between an old-fashioned souvenir shop and a colourful ice cream parlour. Louis stops in front of the house, taking it all in for a second. It's a white tree-story building with narrow windows and a heavy wooden door. The window on the ground floor has flowers painted all over the glass and written in cursive, right in the middle of the drawing, is the name _Poppy's Bakery._

Louis' chest fills with warmth as he recognises the nickname. Poppy is what his mother used to call both her girls, mostly when they were sad or had had a rough day. The name brings back a lot of memories, way more than this little town ever could. It's the perfect choice, he decides. He then wonders if Evelyn will ever believe – or understand, even – how proud he is of her. Suddenly the fear in the pit of his stomach is back at full force, clawing at his skin and making him nauseous. He tries to calm himself down, tired of surrendering to it. What if she hates him? Because she should, shouldn't she? He left her, after all. He still walks up to the door, takes one last shaky breath and pushes.

The door is unlocked and reveals a bright open space that still smells of fresh paint. Small tables and chairs are pushed to one side, stacked on top of each other against a warm yellow wall. The colour reminds him of the sunflowers in his grandfather's garden when he was just a little boy. As Louis takes a few steps inside, the worn floorboards creak under his feet. There's an empty display counter in the back of the room, with a till and a stack of menus to its right. Louis picks one up, too intrigued not to. He pushes his fringe out of his face as his eyes scan the laminated piece of paper. His hair is getting annoyingly long, he makes a mental note to get it cut sometime soon. Just as he's turning the menu around to take a look at the back, a voice startles him.

"Oh, hello!" The voice belongs to a tall guy with brown curly hair and green eyes. He's handsome in a very unconventional way, Louis thinks. He manages a soft hello, feeling his cheeks flush. "I didn't expect anyone to be in here, someone must've left the door unlocked. We're actually closed on Sunday afternoons and Mondays," the guy proceeds to say. "I can give you some tips though, if you're hungry. There are plenty of restaurants around." He smiles at Louis, a dimple popping up in his left cheek. His voice is heavy and for some reason he talks quite slowly. His accents sounds too posh to be from Yorkshire.

"Eh, no thanks. That's – that's now why I'm here." The guy is still smiling at him, although he looks confused now, one eyebrow raised. Louis hesitates for a second before deciding that this is it, there's no way back now. Here goes nothing. "I'm actually looking for Evelyn, she's my sister." 

"Oh!" The guys looks taken aback for a second, quickly looking over his shoulder to what Louis assumes is the kitchen, and then back at him. "Louis, right?" Louis nods. He wonders how much this guy knows about him, what he thinks of him. His tone doesn't give anything away when he says, "I'm Harry."

_Harry._ The name vaguely rings a bell. His sister had mentioned him a few times when they were both home for Christmas one year, but it's too long ago to remember much of what she had said. He hasn't been checking his social media in ages either. Was she dating this guy? Surely Isla would have mentioned it at some point if that was the case, right?

"Eve is in the kitchen, she didn't mention you were coming," Harry says.

Before Louis can reply, a familiar voice comes from behind Harry. "Who are you talking to, H?" Evelyn's smile disappears the second she walks into the room and notices him. "What the hell are you doing here?" Her voice is cold now, angry. Angry is good though, he can deal with angry. It means that she still cares and for now, that might be enough.

"Evie, I –," he starts to say, but she interrupts him.

"How did you know where to find me? If you've come here to talk shit about all of this," her hands gesture around her, "than you can leave right now!" Evelyn crosses her arms against her chest, she looks genuinely pissed. Louis knows her well enough to see right through it, she's putting her guard up, trying to protect herself.

"Evie, I haven't. I – ". He stops, tries to think of the right thing to say. He was so focused on finding the courage to come here and face her, that he hadn't even thought this part trough. Does she really think he doesn't want this for her? That he would tell her off for using her part of the money on this? His sister stays silent, her shoulders tense, Harry's hand on her lower back.

Louis sighs, then says "I'm here because I want to help you." For a second he can make out some type of emotion on her face, but he isn't sure what kind and it's gone again in an instant.

"Why?" She tucks her fringe behind her ear, her eyes never quite reaching his. Her straight blond hair is the shortest it must have been since she was a child, coming down to just below her chin. She's wearing a big pink sweater covered in, what Louis can only assume, is flour. 

"Because mom would have loved this place and I think – I think you're pretty fucking brave for doing this, I definitely wouldn't have the guts to." He pauses. "And you're kind of all I got." His voice is trembling a bit. Evelyn looks up at him now.

"I already have all the help I need, Louis, you'd just be in the way."

Harry looks from Louis to Evelyn. "Evie, don't you think –", but Evelyn cuts him off before he can continue. "No! No, Harry. He can't just come in here after all this time and expect everything to be alright. That's not how it works." Her voice is very loud now, her eyes angrier than before when she finally looks over at him. "You left, that was completely up to you. So now it's completely up to me."

Louis can feel his heart sinking in his stomach. He doesn't know what to do now because she is right, isn't she? It is her decision and he should respect it. But if he walks away without even trying, won't that make her feel even worse? Won't it make her feel like he simply doesn't care enough?

"Louis!" He looks up again, this time to a kinder face, a softer voice. Isla is standing next to his sister now, looking surprised but happy to see him either way. It doesn't surprise him – she'd been the one texting him and trying to convince him for months, after all – but he's still thankful for it right now. It's just enough to calm his racing heart a bit. He smiles at her, says a quiet hello.

Realization seems to dawn on Evelyn as she looks over at her best friend, voice stern when she speaks. "He's leaving, Isla." Isla shakes her head, then says, "We could use an extra hand, Eve, you know that. Last week was hectic and it will only get busier in the coming months. Lou would be the cheapest solution, even if it's just for a while. Until we get the hang of it."

Louis feels relieved at her words because he knows that Evelyn will listen. Isla and her had been friends for as long as Louis could remember, having been next-door neighbours since Evelyn was three and Isla moved into town from Scotland. Her parents both worked long hours so, more often than not, Isla had spent her evenings at their house. At some point, Johannah had jokingly started referring to her as her third daughter. Isla's accent had worn off a bit over the years, but her reddish brown hair and full face of freckles had never changed. And as it turned out, neither had her slightly annoying urge to fix things.

Evelyn lets out a loud sigh and a "Fine!", before she turns around and walks off.

Louis looks a bit sheepishly from Harry to Isla, before the latter walks over to him and pulls him into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're here," she exclaims. Louis smiles. "You seem to be the only one." Isla laughs at that, squeezing his shoulder softly. "How are you, Lou?" He decides to be honest with her. "Not great, but better than before."

She nods. "That's good, any progress is good." It's his turn to nod now. "C'mon, I'll show you around."

Louis follows her curly ponytail into the narrow hallway behind the counter. There's an open doorway to the left that leads into the kitchen, smelling of pastries and freshly made bread. Isla tells him not to mind the mess as they are preparing tomorrow's dough.

She then pulls him in the direction of a small, walled-in garden behind the building. The _Poppy's Bakery_ logo has been painted on the left wall, flowers in various colours included. There's a picnic table right in the middle, a long wooden bench against the right wall and a three in the back. Louis spots a pink swing hanging from one of its branches and fairy lights wrapped around its trunk. To finish it all off, pastel-coloured flower pots have been attached to the walls at various heights. It's very cosy, he decides.

There are 2 doors on the other side of the narrow hallway, one leading to the restrooms and the other leading upstairs. When they're walking up the old staircase – which creaks just as much as the old floorboards – Isla tells him about the two apartments. There's a small one right beneath the roof that Harry claimed immediately and one on the first floor where Isla and Evelyn live together. "That is, if she doesn't lock me out after today," Isla says. Louis huffs out a laugh. 

* * *

Harry watches Isla and Louis disappear behind the door to the first floor before turning around to Evelyn. She's sitting atop the kitchen counter with her face in her hands and her body shaking slightly. "Evie," he says softly while walking closer. "I'm fine, I’m fine, it's fine," she mumbles. He pulls her closer anyway, her arms wrapping around his neck almost immediately. He can feel her tears against his skin but he stays quiet, deciding to let her cry for a bit.

"I'm just – I'm a bit shocked, you know? It's been so long since I've seen him, it almost feels surreal now." She looks up at him, Harry notices mascara on her cheeks and wipes it off with his sleeve. "I know." He doesn't really know what else to say. He hates seeing her like this, mostly because of how many times it has happened over the past two years. She used to be so happy and full of life, always in for an adventure, the eternal optimist. Until the accident happened, her smile disappeared for a long time after that.

"I just – I don't think I can trust him anymore. I don't want to let him in. What if he decides to disappear on me again?" She seems to be on the verge of tears again so Harry pulls her close against his chest. "He seemed sincere to me, Evie." Evelyn shakes her head, "You don't know him, Haz."

"I don't, I know that. I just – He lost them too, Eve." He says it carefully. "You know I'm always on your side but just keep that in mind, alright?" Evelyn stays silent, so he continues. "Besides, he can't be the worst person in the world if Isla likes him!" At that, Evelyn giggles softly.

Isla is an absolute sweetheart – albeit quite witty and sarcastic at times – but incredibly shy and uncomfortable around anyone she doesn't wholeheartedly trust. It took her months to warm up to Harry even and Harry's quite the charmer, if he does say so himself. 

"To be fair, she's known him forever so I don't think it really counts," Evelyn says.

"Fair point," Harry agrees with a chuckle. Evelyn tightens her grip around him for a second, before letting go completely. "He isn't, though. The worst person in the world, I mean. I've probably made it sound like he is." Harry touches her thigh at that, squeezing softly. "You were hurting, Eve."

She nods, before saying, "I don't think he looks very good and I'm not saying that to be mean. I've just never seen him look this tired, he's skinny too. I know he's wearing a sweater but I can see it in his face, his cheeks look hollow. I don't think he's doing too well." Harry nods understandingly, recognising the worry in her voice.

"I guess we'll have to keep him around for a bit then? Feed him lots of leftovers," he says. 

Evelyn bites her lip, "I guess so."

* * *

Louis spends the afternoon cleaning the seating area. He starts by vacuuming and sweeping the floor thoroughly, while Isla is nearby cleaning and dusting off the counter. Once the floorboards are dry, Isla helps him put all the tables back in their regular places. They take a short break after, both needing a breather. When his stomach growls again, Isla looks over at him. "Have you eaten anything at all today, Lou?" He shakes his head, explaining, "I was way too nervous in the morning and haven't really had the chance to since." Isla gives him a disapproving look before disappearing in the kitchen and emerging again shortly after with a small container. "Here, you need to eat."

Louis takes it from her and opens it eagerly, finding a few scones with strawberry jam and clothed cream inside. "They're leftovers from Saturday but they should still taste alright," Isla says. He smiles at her thankfully before digging in. The dough has gone a bit mushy from the jam but they're definitely better than alright. Admittedly, he doesn't know too much about baking pastries and, well, cooking in general but these scones are quite wonderful. "Who made these?" 

"Harry does most of the baking. He's the one who compiled the menu as well." Louis picks up a second one and then asks, "How does she know Harry?"

"He was our neighbour when we lived together in our second year of university. You remember the apartment in Manchester, right?" Louis nods in reply, so Isla continues. "Well, he lived next door, he was studying Sociology and Business at the time. They kind of got along immediately."

"Is something going on between them?" He doesn't really know why he asks, knows it isn't any of his business. Isla knows that too, but she replies anyway. "No, not that I know of … and I'm sure she would tell me if there was. It's kind of like you and me, I think. Harry's own sister moved to America a few years ago, before we even met. And after the accident him and Eve got even closer. She's spent Christmas with him and his mom in Cheshire as well." Louis is glad she didn't spend the holidays on her own. He did, it was …. Awful, lonely.

He had been in Doncaster on his birthday, sitting at his mother's grave, tears running over his cheeks silently. It had been one of his lowest points since the accident. He realised that day that he had pushed everyone away to the point where they had given up on reaching out, had accepted they wouldn't hear back from him. When you keep refusing to let people in, eventually they stop knocking.

Louis forces himself to stop thinking about it.

Once he's finished with the pastries, they clean the tables together and then it's nearing 6 and pitch black out already. _Bloody England_.

When Louis is outside smoking a cigarette a few minutes later, he meets another one of Evelyn's friends. She's listening to music when she walks up to him, head lightly bopping along to the tune. He notices that he startles her a little when he gets up from his crouched position, but she doesn't comment on it. Instead smiling softly and introducing herself. Her name is Mabel and she's quite pretty. She's about as tall as Louis, with long legs and a slim frame. Her skin is just a few shades lighter than her dark eyes and her nails are bright red, matching her converse. The dark box braids on her head are tied together into a ponytail. He's certain Evelyn texted her about him being here, because when he tells her his name she just nods, no questions asked.

It's when they've ordered take-away and are waiting for it to be delivered later at night, that Louis genuinely feels like an intruder. Isla is on her phone scrolling through Instagram and his sister hasn't said a word to him – or Isla for that matter – all day. He suddenly feels so out of place and he can't get rid of the feeling. 

These people have been friends for years. They're a tight unit who have gone through ups and downs together. They saw Evelyn at her lowest and when he wasn't around, they had to step in and become her safety net. It worries him. He came here to try and make it right with Evelyn, meeting new people – and getting them to actually like him – hadn't really been part of the plan. But seeing as they mean so much to her, what they think of him probably means a lot too. This wouldn't be a problem for the old Louis, who had no trouble charming heaps of people in no time. It's not like his social skills had gotten rusty overtime – Louis had often been named customers' favourite bartender at Sunshine Bar – however, there's a big difference in flirtily convincing older men to buy another drink and convincing your sisters' friends that you're not actually a monster.

Later when they're in Evelyn's kitchen, steaming containers of Chinese food in front of them on the table, Louis finally manages to relax a little. He is quiet for most of the night – again, very unlike the old Louis – content to just listen to the others talk. He learns that Mabel studied Creative and Visual Arts and that she's a portrait photographer now. Isla enthusiastically shows him her Instagram page filled with pictures of her friends and other clients, all equally stunning shots. Mabel rolls her eyes fondly but still blushes at the attention. Isla then mentions how Mabel designed the logo for the bakery as well.

"Did you?", Louis asks. Mabel nods. "Cool, I really like it! Reminds me of a watercolour tattoo." Mabel smiles at that, it seems genuine. Louis counts it as a win.

He also learns that she's the most reserved of the four, quite introverted and calm. At first he wonders if it might be because she doesn't feel at ease around him. Based on the way the others act around her, however, it's clear that they're used to her this way. She reminds him of Zayn, he realises. He's certain they would get along well if they ever met, they won't though. The thought doesn't hurt anymore the way it would have a while ago. Maybe time really does heal all wounds, sort of, partly.

Mabel and Harry met in their first year in Manchester, became close and then met Isla and Evelyn in their second year. They've only gotten closer since, a family-like friendship Louis has always yearned for but never actually had himself.

"Where will you be staying, Lou?" Isla's question takes him by surprise. "Not sure yet," he replies.

"Why not? Was coming here just another one of your hasty decisions?" The entire conversation stills at Evelyn's comment. Her voice still sounds harsh when she talks to him, so different from when they were little. She's looking at him now though, one eyebrow raised, her cold stare matching her voice.

"I guess I just assumed you wouldn't want me here. Wouldn't have blamed you for it either, so … ." He doesn't finish his sentence. Evelyn only looks at him for a second longer, before looking down at her plate again, muttering something to herself but never actually replying. Isla gives him an apologetic smile.

The second time Evelyn talks to him that night, he's helping her and Harry clean the table. It's just the three of them now, Isla having gone to bed and Mabel having left a while ago. "I'll be sleeping with Isla so you can sleep in my room for now." She's got her arms crossed against her chest, looking uncomfortable.

"I can just sleep on the couch, Eve, you don't have to –".

"It's fine, Louis." She must realise he still isn't convinced because she follows it up with, "Her bed is big enough, besides the couch is old and uncomfortable, trust me. It's fine, okay?" He nods, "Okay, thanks."

She gives him a careful smile, then walks over to kiss Harry's cheek. "Goodnight." They both say it back before she disappears into one of the bedrooms. Louis could really do with a cigarette right now. Or a whole pack, if he's being completely honest. He sighs softly but Harry still seems to pick up on it.

"Don't worry about it too much, okay? She'll come around, she always does." He means well, he must. Still, Louis feels a sudden burst of anger flash through his body. Surely nobody needs to tell him what his own bloody sister is like. He manages to bite it back though, nodding silently at Harry.

They stand there for a second, looking at each other without saying a word. Harry's green eyes look (absolutely beautiful but that's beside the point here) kind, but there's something uncertain in them as well.

"I think it's time for me to go to bed as well, early morning tomorrow. Goodnight, Louis", Harry says after a while, walking over to the front door. "Night," Louis replies, before the door falls shut and he's alone in the unfamiliar kitchen.

When Louis wakes up the next morning, it takes him a while to figure out where he is. He blinks a few times as the memories of the previous day come back to him. The bright room he's in looks nothing like the cramped space he'd been renting in London. He sits up, looking around the room. It's relatively plain with white walls and a big window that gives out to the yard. Yet somehow, it's so unmistakably Evelyn's that he almost feels like he walked into her bedroom in their childhood home in Doncaster. There's a light pink commode on the right side of her bed with a mirror resting on top, fairy lights have been wrapped around its swirly, iron frame. Next to it is her door, covered in so many pictures of her and her friends, that the colour of the door is hard to make out. He can spot Isla and Harry in over half of them. There's a clothing rack in front of the other wall at the foot of the bed, filled with oversized sweatshirts in every colour imaginable. Upon closer inspection, Louis is certain some of them used to belong to him once. What makes the room so obviously hers though, are the plants scattered all around: in big pots on the floor, hanging from hooks in the ceiling and perched on top of the black marble window sill.

It's already light out, Louis notices next, the sky looking grey and foggy. He grabs for the duffle bag he had carelessly dropped next to the bed the night before. He rummages through it, looking for a clean pair of underwear and socks, before he picks up his black joggers and light blue sweatshirt and heads into the hallway. If he remembers correctly from Isla's explanation the day before, the door opposite the one he came out of, should be the bathroom. He opens it slowly, smiling to himself when he's met with white tiles and a shower cabin. 

He walks out into the hallway again about half an hour later, with damp hair, flushed cheeks and a rumbling stomach. The apartment is bright and homely in the early sunlight, smelling like fresh coffee and something sweet. It's eerily quiet which has Louis wondering if he was the last one to wake up. Right as he's about to walk over to the kitchen, a nudge against his calf startles him. When he looks down, he's met with two big green eyes and happy purring sounds. He crouches down. "Hello you", he whispers to the tabby, while he lets her sniff his hand. She's black with brown all over, but her paws are partially white, almost as if she's wearing socks. She lets him pet her and her purring gets even louder, which makes Louis laugh softly. "You're a happy one, aren't _ya_?", he asks her. She blinks up at him a few times, before going back to rubbing her head against his leg. He rubs her furry head softly, before getting back on his feet and walking over to the kitchen.

It's empty, as he expected. He spots dishes in the sink though and a half-finished cup of coffee, that's long gone cold, on the big wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Louis walks over to the coffee machine eagerly, realising it's one of those fancy ones that uses fresh beans. He presses the on-button and rummages through the cupboards for a mug. As he waits for his mug to fill up, he looks around the kitchen. It's cosy but old, the cabinet doors could definitely do with a new coat of paint and some of the utensils need to be upgraded. Isla had told him they would be doing this once the bakery was properly up and running, that it wasn't a priority right now. Louis had agreed. He wonders now if maybe he could help out with it, just to get it done sooner. It's the least he can do, isn't it? That is, if Evelyn wants him around for that long.

When he goes downstairs, he can hear the muffled voices of customers before he's even opened the door. It's pretty busy, most of the tables are occupied and there's a queue at the till that Isla is standing behind. He walks over to the kitchen, finding his sister and Harry there. "Hey," he greets. Evelyn and Harry both look up. "You could have woken me up, you know? I wouldn't have minded." Harry is taking pastries out of the oven as Evelyn is preparing an order of Belgian waffles with slices of banana.

"You could have set an alarm, you know?", his sister replies while looking down. Her voice doesn't sound as hostile as it did yesterday. A smile tugs at Harry's lips at the comment, a dimple appearing with it. Louis isn't sure what to say to that, so instead he asks, "How can I help?" Again, Evelyn doesn't look at him when she replies, "Ask Isla."

So Louis does. Isla tells him to clear the tables first, which has him balancing various empty cups and small plates in his hands. He's glad he's somewhat experienced thanks to his job as a bartender, a few years ago he would definitely have dropped something. He walks to and from the kitchen a few times before all the tables have been cleared, often passing his sister walking out with orders - all smelling delicious. He spends the rest of the morning helping Isla behind the tills and – thankfully – doesn't need too long to get the hang of it.

At noon, he's sat at the picnic table in the little garden with a steaming mug of tea and a big chunk of brown cake in front of him. He breaks a little piece off with his fork before bringing it to his mouth, trying it out carefully. He hadn't had time to ask what was in it when Harry had handed it to him a few minutes ago. The flavour is rich and reminds him of gingerbread, but there's something else in there he can't quite put his finger on. It's then that Harry walks out with a bowl of carrot peels in his hand, shivering in just his t-shirt and apron. He smiles shyly, "Like it?", he asks.

Louis nods, smiling just as shyly back at him. "I do, thanks. Is it carrot cake?" Harry blinks once, twice before giggling softly. "It is! Figured that out all on your own then?" It's a silly comment but it still makes Louis blush. He clears his throat, then asks, "Where are you going with those?" Harry nods over to the back of the small space next to the tree, there's a hutch there Louis hadn't paid attention to before.

"Feeding the bunny." He watches as Harry walks over, opening the roof of the hutch and dropping the contents of the bowl inside. Harry is facing away from him, but Louis can still hear the soft murmur of his voice as he talks to the rabbit. He decides to walk over too, crouching down beside Harry.

It's an English Spot, white fur with black marks all over its body and face. Its ears are entirely black and stand up straight, its nose is covered in black fur as well. "What a cute little thing!", Louis coos softly. Harry hums in agreement next to him, before petting the rabbit's head softly. "Her name's Oreo, she's Evelyn's." Louis giggles at the name. "So my sister has a bunny and a cat? Always thought she was more of a dog person, to be honest."

Harry looks over at him. "The cat is mine, actually. She just likes to pretend she owns the place and gets to choose where she goes. We're working on it, though." Louis can't help but to giggle again, much to his own dislike. Harry seems pleased about it though, so there's that.

"Are you more of a dog person then?", Harry asks. Louis reaches over to brush his fingers over the bunny's head, her dark eyes looking up at him curiously as she munches on a carrot peel. "Not really, all animals are cute, aren't they?" Harry nods excitedly, dimple appearing again. Their fingers brush against each other at some point, sending a weird feeling through Louis' body that he decides to ignore. "You should finish your tea before it gets cold," Harry says after a few beats of silence.

The rest of the day goes by in a hurry. It gets a bit calmer around 4 PM, when the midday rush has finally passed, and Louis lets out a relieved sigh. Isla had asked him to bring out orders in the afternoon and he had struggled with it quite a bit. Many plates and cups had ended up at the wrong table and Louis got more and more embarrassed with every mistake he made. Isla kept smiling at him kindly, patiently explaining the table arrangement and the corresponding table numbers over and over again. Still, he can't help but be thankful when the last customers finally leave and they get to lock up for the day.


End file.
